


Un-revocable Sacrifices

by Moreena



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Adultery, Anal Sex, Assassination Attempt(s), Dark, Head Injury, Heavy Angst, Infidelity, M/M, Major Character Injury, Personality Swap, Post-Canon, Post-Endless Waltz, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 08:51:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10895907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moreena/pseuds/Moreena
Summary: Trowa has been gone eight months on a one month mission.  When he finally comes home, things aren't normal, and Quatre knows.  But, how does he convince others that the Trowa that returned is different?  What does it take to convince his fellow pilots that Trowa is intent on killing him, and will they help Quatre before it's too late?





	Un-revocable Sacrifices

**Author's Note:**

> This is a whoooooooole lotta angst, and I don't know how long it will be. I'll add tags as I go in case I forgot something, but do not expect this to be fun filled. I'm also really gonna fudge science/medical things too, because I can. But there will have been some research done into things just to verify that it can happen. 
> 
> I KNOW not everyone likes an angsty ending, so I will post the entire fic how I want it to end. I'll add a second part with a bittersweet ending, for those who prefer anything over a sad ending.

His partner was the best kind of actor. He could slip from one personality to the next as easily as a normal person changed their underwear, like a chameleon. It had always amazed the blonde, and awed him in a sense. Yes, Quatre could change personalities, to some degree. He could play the ruthless business man, the bratty rich child, the aristocratic figurehead. But, it was a limited repertoire. Trowa, on the other hand had played an orphan, a soldier, doctor, politician, and so many more. Give him just a few minutes, and maybe a change of clothing, or some change to his appearance, and he’d be an entirely new person.

So, it wasn’t all that outrageous when Quatre came home from work one night and found Trowa pouring over folders and books, gleaning any pertinent bits of information on something. He was being sent into deep cover, down in Columbia for what was supposed to be a month. He had to become one of the cartel, and they both knew that things he’d do down there in the name of justice would be blemishes upon his soul, that would weigh him down. Would eventually weigh them both down until the next fight came along. Quatre didn’t judge him or hate him for what he did in the name of Preventers and world peace.

They said their goodbyes the next morning, and Trowa was gone. He wouldn’t be able to contact Quatre at all, because secrecy and risk. Quatre understood it, even if he didn’t like it. It was strange to head outside for his day and into a car with Wufei. But, when Trowa had missions, one of the other pilots filled in for him. And, they liked to rotate duty between the three of them. Made attacks against the blonde less likely if they never knew who’d be with him. Wufei gave him a smile and handed over a cup of coffee, and they were off for Quatre to create chaos in the board room.

 

Heero told him that Trowa was alright. He’d been able to get out a message here and there, to check in with headquarters. He didn’t say anything else, except that he was fine, and his cover was safely in place. That had been last month. One month undercover had turned to three months, which had turned into six, and Quatre was starting to worry. Missions were never that far off the planned time. None of the other pilots blinked, but Quatre knew. Could see it in the way Heero’s lips tightened when he finished telling the blonde that Trowa was ok, but wasn’t ready to come home yet. Could read it in the anxious expression in Duo’s eyes whenever the braided pilot checked in with him, either through a vid call, or when it was his turn to play body guard. And, he could feel it when Wufei talked to him, his tone gentle, but worry hidden deep down in his voice.

It was in the eighth month that the call came in. There was a mad scramble, and Quatre was left in his office with an out of breath Duo. Duo, who’d stepped out of the room to take a phone call, and had come bursting in, eyes and face alight with excitement, though he carried an undercurrent of concern.

“Trowa’s coming home!” He whooped.

Quatre stood up so fast his chair clattered over behind him. But he didn’t care. Trowa was coming home after so damned long! It was all he could think about now that he knew. He was elated, so much so that he never stopped to think or ask Duo about the tinge of apprehension on his face. His lover was finally home! It was too much for him to even put into words! Blonde hair practically bouncing, he dragged Duo out the door, yelling for his secretary to have the car brought up, his other obligations be damned.

Pulling up in front of the Preventers building brought butterflies to his stomach, made him anxious and excited. He practically vibrated with pent up energy, which Duo did his best to try and quell.

“Q-man, he’s not… I don’t think he’s gonna go home right away. You know how it is. Medical, debrief, paperwork.”

“I don’t care. He’s been gone eight fucking months Duo. I don’t care that he has to follow procedure. I’m going to see him! I’m going to see him!” Quatre snapped, making his way through the main floor to the elevator, punching the floor for medical with more force than was necessary, practically huffing when Duo managed to squeeze in before the car could take off.

“It’s not that Quatre. He’s different. He’s changed.”

“Wouldn’t you after eight months of cover so deep you didn’t know your ass from your elbow?”

Quatre knew he was being childish. Snappy and bitter. But damnit, none of them had sacrificed eight months of their lives like this, in a way that would leave more emotional scars than physical ones. It wasn’t just Trowa that had suffered, but him as well. Quatre was a tactile creature, needed to touch and be close to his loved ones, and Trowa’s absence had been felt on an almost cosmic scale to the blonde man. He needed to renew that feeling, restate those bonds that had become so frayed with time and distance.

The doors opened on the medical floor and Quatre was off like a shot, entering the med bay and looking around at all the beds, trying to find his lover. He was down at the end, with Sally. Only the best for the former Gundam pilots. She was talking in low tones to him, and must have caught sight of Quatre’s blonde hair, because she excused herself and turned down the main aisle to head Quatre off.

“Didn’t expect you so soon Quatre, but it’s good you’re here,” Sally said, keeping her tone warm, extending a hand to the blonde.

Quatre shook hands on auto pilot, craning his neck to peer over Sally’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of the brunette. He was so close, and so far, all in the same moment. Pure torture. Sally moved to block his view, and gave Quatre a weary looking smile.

“He’s alright. I’m sure Duo tried to tell you, but he’s not quite himself. He’s got a couple wounds that I’ve looked at, including a concussion, and a knife wound along his arm. He’s malnourished and slightly dehydrated. I’m keeping him here overnight, for observation. You can visit with him, but he needs to rest today. He’s had an ordeal, and I don’t want to stress him. Other than what I’ve told you, he’s alright. You can see him for ten minutes, then you’ll have to leave. He’ll be on paid leave for the next three months, per Une’s orders. And, we’ll have him on the psych rotation before the end of the week,” she rattled off, fixing Quatre with a hard stare to make sure that he’d listened and heard her.

He was relieved, and he sagged a little with the revelation that Trowa was ok. He was wounded, but he was whole, and he’d recover with time and rest. Trowa was home, and alright. That was all he needed.

“I understand Sally. I’m just… Relieved to have him back. That’s all I care about,” he admitted, knowing his voice was a little shaky.

She put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “Go see him. Just be gentle,” she repeated, walking away to give them the illusion of privacy, grabbing Duo as she went, even when he protested that he wanted to see Trowa too, Sally insisting that he could visit tomorrow.

Quatre chuckled briefly at them as they went, walking slowly towards his lover of three years, and friend for so many more. He couldn’t even count how many years it had been, it had felt like forever. He approached the bed slowly and sat in the chair next to it, offering Trowa a timid smile. Sally was right. He looked like shit. He was thinner, his face slightly sunken in. His skin was paler than normal, and he had a myriad of small wounds, and his left arm was wrapped in bandages from wrist to elbow.

“Hey,” he intoned softly.

Trowa gave him the barest hint of a smile and nodded in greeting.

“I’m glad you’re home. I’ll get the guest room ready. I’m sure you need time to adjust to being back.”

“That would be nice,” Trowa admitted, letting out a sigh of relief. 

As thrilled as he was to be home, Quatre was right. He needed time to re-adjust. He didn’t know how he was going to deal with things. It had been a hard mission, and he’d done things he wished he could forget. Things that had made war seem like a distant, non-violent thing. He’d see psych in two days, to start working through all of it. Leaning back on the pillows, he allowed his eyes to fall closed. He was just so tired. They sat there in the relative silence that the medical could offer. There was the hum of machines and the murmur of people. But, in their own space of Trowa’s bed they were quiet. Basking in one another’s presence. Quatre wanted to touch him, to reach out and just… Even the brush of fingers on Trowa’s hands would help right his inverted world. His hand sat on the edge of the bed, unmoving. If Trowa could read his thoughts, he didn’t show it, and he didn’t reach out to comfort Quatre in the way he knew would help.

“Alright Quatre, time to go. I’ll make sure to take good care of him, I promise. His virtue is safe here,” Sally teased, dropping a hand to his shoulder and squeezing.

His body preened at the touch, as miniscule as it was. He needed more, but he hated asking. And, who would he ask? His friends? They did enough for him as it was, with guarding him, and simply being his friends. He couldn’t ask them for more than that. Still, when her hand fell away, he felt bereft. But, there was nothing he could do. It had been eight months of minor casual touches like that, what was a few more days? Rising to his feet, he smoothed out the creases in his slacks, a nervous habit he’d picked up from when he was younger. He cast a last longing look at Trowa, surprised to see his face turned away from the blonde, staring out into nothing. He felt a piece of his heart break off and shatter with that. But, he plastered a fake smile on his face, and pulled his shit together.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Trowa. I love you,” he managed to say, his voice not cracking with the fury of emotion he was feeling.

“Yeah. Love you too,” Trowa responded, throat and lips working automatically to say the words, though Quatre could tell the brunette’s heart wasn’t behind them.

Sally had already walked away, and she hadn’t heard the exchange, which Quatre was grateful for. He turned on his heel and walked down the bay to the elevator, snagging Duo by the braid as he went. Duo called out a cheerful goodbye to Sally for them, and Quatre offered a reserved wave as the doors slid closed and brought them downstairs.

He kept it together until Duo had seen him to his apartment, and once he was inside with the door locked, he crawled onto his side of the bed and allowed himself to sob. He needed the release of emotion, everything he’d felt in a day had been too much of a roller coaster. Elation, nervous excitement, tentative fear, and rejection had all steamrolled him and left him feeling hollow, like a scooped-out pumpkin. This one moment of weakness was all he’d allow himself. By morning, he’d be put back together, for Trowa’s sake. He would be strong for Trowa, when he came home, and together, they’d figure out a way to climb this latest mountain.

 

Sally kept Trowa in medical for two days. ‘Just as a precaution’, she’d said over the phone. As much as it pained him to hear that Trowa would be gone longer than expected, he was grateful. He’d spent the night crying and feeling sorry for himself, and eating his way through a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. So, he hadn’t actually cleaned or gotten the guest room ready for Trowa’s arrival. Taking the day off of work, he went about setting things to rights. He put fresh sheets on the bed, moved a bunch of Trowa’s clothes into the closet. All little things, that he hoped would be undone within a few days or a week.

 

Heero and Duo brought him home, in the middle of the afternoon. Quatre had been too keyed up on nerves and excitement to go to work, to even leave his apartment. He’d spent the day chewing nervously on his nails, and fussing with simple things, like the pillows on the couch, or the books in the library, just to keep himself moving. They’d come in without knocking, nearly giving the willowy blonde a heart attack since he’d been in his own world.

“Quatre! We’ve brought your other half home!” Duo shouted as he pushed open the door hard enough to make it hit the doorstop on the wall and bounce back towards the group.

“Duo, calm down,” Heero chided from the back of the group, rolling his eyes slightly at the braided boy.

“I figured he’d want to know we brought his beloved home.” Duo shot back as he made his way inside, a haggard looking Trowa following in his wake.

“The guest room is all set for you,” Quatre responded to Trowa, keeping his tone low, knowing how his lover was.

He was always skittish in a sense when he came back. He needed time to acclimate, to shed that cover he’d woven around himself like a snake shedding its skin. Trowa needed to realize that he wasn’t in constant danger of being exposed, or prepare to do something that went against the fabric of his moral cloth. The brunette mumbled a thanks and slipped past Quatre, down the hall to the guest room, closing the door with a quiet snick.

“Well that went well,” Duo said with a shrug, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his head, a puzzled look on his face.

“He needs time, Duo. He’s been under for way too long. So, don’t judge him,” Heero responded, handing Quatre a small bag and a folder. “His personal things, and medical information from Sally. You know the drill.”

“Thanks guys. I appreciate you bringing him home. And for agreeing to come keep him company while he decompresses for the next few months. I’m sure he’ll be grateful too.”

“Hey Quat. Get some sleep. You look like shit, and you can’t help him if you’re all out of it,” Duo frowned, leaning in closer to the blonde, their faces inches apart.

Quatre knew he looked like he’d been through the wringer. He had bags under his eyes, and he was just off mentally, to those who knew him best. Nothing a hearty meal and a good eight hours of sleep wouldn’t fix. If he could manage to stay passed out for that long.

“I’ll get right on that Duo. Your candor is much appreciated,” Quatre retorted, dropping the folder onto the kitchen table so he could read it later.

Heero took his cue from Quatre’s tone and dropped a hand onto Duo’s shoulder, giving a warning squeeze. Duo had been about to open his mouth, but he knew that touch. It was the ‘you’re treading on thin ice, and I can’t always save you’ grip. So, he clamped his mouth shut with an audible click and turned for the door, waving over his shoulder.

“We’ll see you tomorrow Quatre. If you need anything from us, just give us a call,” Heero said with a nod at Quatre, showing himself and Duo out, closing the door behind them.

They were gone, and Quatre sagged in relief against the kitchen counter, pushing his hair out of his face with a ragged sigh. He didn’t know what to do. Trowa was much more skittish than ever before, but could he really blame the other man? Clearly, things had happened, and had shaken him on a level that Quatre couldn’t begin to comprehend. He shuffled his way to the table and sat, flipping open the folder and scanning through all the information that Sally had given him. Care for the wound and stitches on his arm, psych care for trauma victims, concussion information. Some of it was familiar to Quatre, but he read It all anyway, because a refresher was always good.

Looking back at that first day Trowa had come home, he should have known. Quatre should have known from that first day, that things would never be the same, and that his life would wind up traipsing down a path he wouldn’t have wished on his worst enemy. Not even Dorothy Catalonia deserved what fate befell him after Trowa had returned, transformed from what he’d known and loved into something preternatural and twisted.

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](http://moonsandrock.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> [My Gundam Tumblr](http://weiclown.tumblr.com/)


End file.
